


Saying Goodbye is Hard

by alynwa



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a death in the family.  RIP, Ralph Waite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The team and their prisoner arrived back at Headquarters just before seven PM. The former Marine had used his training to evade them and probably would have gotten away if not for Tony improvising by throwing oil on the road that caused the getaway car to lose traction and crash. Gibbs was looking forward to grilling the suspect; it irked him greatly when a bad apple disgraced the Corps.

Tony and Gibbs stepped off the elevator with the prisoner in front of them on their way to Interrogation when Director Vance stopped them.

Gibbs looked askance at his boss. “Director?”

Director Vance motioned with his right hand and Agent Dorneget came forward. “Agent Dorneget will escort Tony and the prisoner. I need to see you now. In my office.” He turned around and walked away, leaving Gibbs and DiNozzo staring after him quizzically.

“Dorney, do you know…?”

“The only thing I know, Gibbs, is he called my team leader to tell him we were taking this case over and Cobb told me to get up here and do what Vance said.”

“ _What?”_ Gibbs stalked off to Vance’s office. _We’ll see about that._

He walked straight through the receptionist’s office directly into the Director’s office. Without preamble he demanded, “Leon, what the hell is going on? You know how hard I pushed the team, especially Bishop…”

“Stand down, Marine!” Leon interjected before raising his hands and saying in a normal tone of voice, “Leroy, sit down. I have something to tell you. I…received a phone call about an hour ago from your godfather.”

A small knot of ice began to form in the pit of Gibbs’ stomach. Leroy Jethro Moore, his namesake, had moved in with his father about eight months earlier and after a slightly rocky start, the two men had re – established their close friendship. His father had thanked him for, as he put it, putting two old mules together to work out their differences.* He knew there was only one reason that would cause him to go through channels to talk to the Director. “My father’s dead.”

Leon hung his head. “Yes. Mr. Moore didn’t want you to hear it over the phone. It appears to have been a heart attack. Today’s Friday; your bereavement leave starts now. I don’t expect to see you back here for at least a week.”

Gibbs looked up. “That leave is only four days.”

“Gibbs, Jethro, you have more than enough vacation time. Take all the time you need. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m alright,” he said though to Vance he looked anything but. “Dad prepaid his funeral years ago and Uncle Leroy knows that. What else did he say?”

“He said that he’s okay and you can come tomorrow; you don’t have to head that way tonight.” Leon went to sit next to his agent. “Gibbs, I’m so sorry for your loss and I’m sorry I won’t be available to go to his funeral. You were a rock for me when Jackie…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s fine, Leon. The conference in Prague’s been scheduled for months; you’re representing the Navy, you _have_ to go. I’m fine.”

“The reason I handed the case over to the other team is because with the exception of Miss Bishop, your team, especially Ducky and Abby, were close to your father, too. I’m assuming they will probably want to attend the funeral.”

“Yeah. I better tell them now. See you later, Leon.” Gibbs turned and walked out.

Director Vance noted that his agent was too distracted to remember to close his office door. As he got up to do it himself he thought, _I hope he doesn’t try to keep this bottled up inside, it’s not healthy._

Gibbs left Vance’s office and headed directly to Ducky’s morgue. “Jethro!” the older man announced as he came through the door, “How are…?” Ducky stopped mid – sentence when he saw the look on his friend’s face. “What on earth is the matter?”

Gibbs ignored the question. “Palmer, call Tony, McGee, Bishop and Abby and tell them to get down here ASAP. I have something to say and I only want to say it once.”

“Of course. Of course, Gibbs, sure,” Jimmy said as he practically scurried to Ducky’s desk to make the calls. He knew whatever Gibbs wanted to say had to be important because nine times out of ten, when Gibbs wanted to speak to Ducky, he was expected to leave the room. “Tony? Gibbs said come to the lab now. Bring McGee and Bishop. See ya.” He quickly called Abby who hung up as soon as he said Gibbs wanted her in the lab.

Less than five minutes later, the team was assembled and looking at their leader expectantly. “Jackson Gibbs is dead. Heart attack.”

Abby covered her mouth with both hands and gasped, Ducky sat heavily in his chair and rubbed his hand across his face while Tony, McGee and Palmer looked stunned and saddened. Only Bishop had no obvious reaction.

Abby broke the silence first. “Gibbs, Gibbs, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed as she ran to hug him. Before she could get her arms around his neck, Gibbs grabbed her wrists and firmly, but gently pushed them down to her sides.

“I’m fine, Abbs. I’m fine.”

Tony, who had entertained the idea of hugging Gibbs himself, didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing. McGee and Palmer took their cue from him and remained silent.

Ducky looked up and said, “Your father was a good man. I’ll miss our phone calls.”

Bishop was relieved to know who Jackson Gibbs was and said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Gibbs. He must have been a special man if the team thinks so highly of him.”

Gibbs ignored her and Ducky and said, “I’m going home now and driving up to Stillwater tomorrow. I’ll call Duck with the arrangements if you want to attend. Tony’s in charge. Vance handed our case over to Cobb’s team.” He turned around and walked out the door leaving the team staring after him dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t let me hug him!” Abby said sadly.

“Me, neither,” McGee agreed.

Bishop looked at her partners. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not, my dear,” Ducky soothed, “Gibbs and his father had their issues, but they seemed to have resolved a lot of them in the last few years. Theirs was a complicated relationship.”

Tony cleared his throat. “We better get back to work. We know we’ll be out of the office one day next week so we need to clear our desks.”

“Right, you are,” Ducky said, “Back to work; all of you.” He watched as everyone except Mr. Palmer left Autopsy. _I already see Jethro shutting everyone out. That could be problematic._

*ref. “A Sunday Phone Conversation”


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday morning, Gibbs hit the road at seven – thirty and arrived in Stillwater four hours later. Before he headed to his father’s house, he drove along Main Street to look at the store. The “Closed” sign was hanging on the inside of the door and someone had hung black bunting along the top of the building.

When he got to the house, he pulled into the driveway and walked to the back door just as his Uncle Leroy opened it. “Hey,” he said as he stepped aside to allow Jethro entry, “I figured you’d be getting here around now. There’s fresh coffee. Want something to eat?”

“Coffee’s fine,” he replied as he sat at the kitchen table. He watched as his other father figure poured him a cup and freshened up the cup he had been drinking. He accepted it and took a sip. “’S good.”

“Thanks.” The two men drank their coffee in silence. Both knew they had to talk, but both were loath to be the first to say anything.

Gibbs looked around the kitchen. “This place is cleaner than I remember. Did Mrs. Hagerty stop by and do this?”

Uncle Leroy snorted, “The way Jackson was duckin’ and dodgin’ that woman? Hah! _I_ keep the house clean. Your dad couldn’t care less what it looked like half the time.”

That brought a quick grin to Gibbs’ face that disappeared quickly. “I want you to keep living here.”

“You sure?”

“ _I_ don’t need this house; I’ve got one. Don’t need to sell it anytime soon. You keep it.”

The older man nodded and they lapsed back into silence. “I didn’t choose a suit or anything for the funeral home. I figured you’d want to do it.”

“’Kay.”

“Ansel Roberts, the main director at Roberts’ Funeral Home, can have the service there this Tuesday. Your dad picked out the coffin and the music.”

Gibbs nodded. “I know. And he wants the service to be short and sweet because…”

“People have things to do,” Uncle Leroy finished for him and they shared a laugh. He stopped laughing and put his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. “How are you doing? Really?”

Gibbs stood up, causing the hand to fall away. “I’m fine. Gotta go. I’m taking one of Dad’s suits to Roberts’ and I have some business to take care of. See ya later.” He turned quickly and headed for the stairs.

Leroy put both cups in the sink and sighed. _I’m worried about him._

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs kept himself busy for hours. After he dropped off the clothing at the funeral home, he used his spare key to go into the General Store. He went behind the counter and removed Jackson’s rifle from the wall and the picture of his father and his namesake. He put them on the counter and slowly walked the aisles noting how all the cans and boxes were lined up with almost military precision. He checked the storage room and found the books his father kept for the store. He called his father’s suppliers to apprise them of his father’s death so that they could stop deliveries and send final bills. He graciously accepted their condolences, but kept the tone of the conversations business – like and short. Before he left the store, he filled five bags with groceries to stock the house for his uncle.

After he loaded up the car trunk, he headed over to the office of The Stillwater Gazette and sat with the editor. Barry Gidseg and he had gone to school together back in the day and Barry was upset to hear the news and promised the obituary, along with the funeral information, would run in Monday’s edition. He gave Gibbs the use of a desk and computer where he sat for almost two hours working on the obit. When it was complete, Barry emailed it to Ansel Roberts for inclusion in Tuesday’s program and gave it to his staff to include in the paper.

Gibbs, who had barely spoken the whole time except to give information, shook hands and said, “Thanks, Barry.”

“Everybody respected your father, Leroy. I expect you’ll have a decent turnout Tuesday. I’ll see you then.” He wanted to say more, but Gibbs had turned on his heel and left.

Afterwards, he drove to Laurel Hill Cemetery over by Orangeburg to make sure the family plot was being cared for and visit Kelly and Shannon* before stopping into the office there to speak with the management. Satisfied that all was in order, he got in the car and headed back to Stillwater.

“Oh, there you are!” Uncle Leroy said when he came in the back door, “I was starting to get worried. Where’d you go and what’s all that?”

Gibbs dropped the first two grocery bags on the kitchen table. “Stuff from the store, lot of canned goods, muffin mixes and stuff. We need to eat something.”

Leroy Moore pointed at the fridge. “Open it,” he said, “Mrs. Hagerty, Mrs. Keller and the Widow Jones brought enough food to feed an army while you were out. There’s two casseroles, fried chicken, baked chicken, string beans, potato salad and Cole slaw. And there’s a cake on the dining room table. Are you hungry? I was just about to get something for myself.”

“I’m not hungry.”

The older man got up and pulled two plates from the cabinet. “You’re eating something.   Unless you can tell me you ate something earlier, I’m fixing you a plate. I don’t need you falling out.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to argue, but shrugged instead and sat at the table. “Thanks.” After a few minutes, he could smell food heating in the microwave. _Does smell good,_ he admitted to himself. He accepted the plate and waited until Leroy sat before he started to eat.

After he finished eating Gibbs stated, “I have more bags in the trunk. Be right back.” It took three trips to bring everything in; the last thing was the photo. “I figured you would want this in the house. Unless you want to take over the store.”

Leroy leaned back in his chair and waved his hands in front. “Oh, no! _Jackson_ didn’t want to retire, I’m quite content living the quiet life. He knew you’d want to sell; had no problem with it and neither do I. He bought me out when we fell out about your mother and I left town, so whatever you get for it is yours, free and clear.” He got up to clear the table. “Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t answer my question. I’m not that old, yet. Where were you all day? It didn’t take that long to go to the store and the funeral home.”

“I had to go see Barry at the paper and drive over to the cemetery. Just taking care of details.” Before Leroy could ask, Gibbs said, “Uncle Leroy, I have to call Ducky to give him the funeral arrangements; I’m going to my room. G’night.”

“Good night, son.” He noted Gibbs hesitate slightly, but he didn’t turn around; just continued up the stairs. _I don’t know how long he can keep going like this,_ he thought.

Gibbs closed his bedroom door and pressed Ducky’s number on speed dial.

“Hello?”

“Duck, it’s me.”

“Jethro! How are you, dear boy?”

“Fine. The funeral is going to be Tuesday at eleven – thirty in the morning at the Roberts Funeral Home in Stillwater with burial at Laurel Hill Cemetery.”

“Ah, yes, where Shannon and Kelly are laid to rest. I will let everyone know.”

“Thanks. You don’t have to come. It’s a four hour drive, the service is going to be short, then there’s the drive to the cemetery…”

“Jethro,” Ducky interrupted exasperatedly, “we will be there. Period.”

“Fine.”

“You seem to be saying that word a lot. We’re all concerned, Jethro, and I for one, do _not_ think you are ‘fine.’ I think you are trying to be strong, like always. You don’t have to let me or any of the team in, but I hope you’re at least leaning on your Uncle Leroy. I think you two need each other.”

“Duck, I said I was fine. I’ll see you Tuesday,” Gibbs grunted before ending the call.

Duck hung up the phone and leaned back in his easy chair and stared at it. _Oh, dear._

*ref. “Truly Thankful”


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday morning at ten found Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Leroy Jethro Moore sitting in the kitchen of the house the younger Leroy grew up in as they ate breakfast, drank coffee and prepared to say goodbye to a man who, at different times in their lives, had meant the world to them. "So," Leroy said conversationally, "is your team coming here first?"

"Nope. Didn't come up when I spoke to Duck, so they're heading straight to the service. After the burial, they're driving straight back to DC."

"Are you leaving today, too?"

"No. I was thinking I'd leave Thursday."

Leroy shook his head, but said nothing. _What is there to keep him here any longer than he has to be? He's never going to live here again, he doesn't want anything to do with the store. Maybe he doesn't want anything more to do with me._ He cleared his throat. "It's getting late. We need to get over to the funeral home."

"Why?"

"Well," Leroy replied as he stood to clear the table, "I want to see Jackson to make sure Ansel did a good job, but more importantly, I want to say my goodbyes before people start showing up. You and I should have a moment with him alone together."

"Fine. Let's go." Gibbs stood and grabbed his suit jacket, threw it on and then put his coat over his arm as he would need it when they were at the cemetery. Leroy chuffed in frustration. "Jethro…," he began to say, but then shook his head. "Nevermind."

Gibbs turned around to look at Leroy. "What?"

"You can't keep doing this. I think you need to talk to me about what you're feeling; I think we both need to talk about what we're feeling." He threw his hands up and yelled, "Hell, Jethro, I don't know what to say to you!"

Gibbs stared at Uncle Leroy during his outburst. He put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Uncle Leroy, I'm fine, it's okay. Let's go to Roberts."

Dejected, Leroy followed Gibbs out of the house. _I feel like we're losing each other._

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Ansel did a very good job. Jack Gibbs laid in repose in his coffin, dressed in the grey suit, white shirt and grey and black striped tie Jethro had brought on Saturday. Leroy had walked into the chapel with his godson dutifully following and marched right up to the front of the room. Gibbs had paused to shut the doors behind them and gaze at the Condolence book that sat atop the lectern just to the left of the doors. He noted that quite a few people had come to pay their respects the previous night. Jackson Gibbs had been a complicated man with a strong set of values and opinions and a stubborn streak a couple of miles wide, but he was well – known as an honest man and generally well – liked in Stillwater. He sighed and went to join his uncle.

Leroy was standing there with his hands clasped in front of him as he inspected Jack and his surroundings. He reached up and wiped a smudge off the casket. “I know people always say that someone looks like they’re sleeping, but I swear, he really does.” He moved a little closer and put his right hand on top of Jack’s entwined hands. “I’m going to miss you, Jack. Stubborn – ass mule, we missed out on forty years of friendship, but I am so…grateful for the time we were able to share over these last months. Goodbye, my friend.” He stepped back and quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his leaking eyes.

Gibbs crossed his arms and looked at the floor silently while he waited for his Uncle Leroy to compose himself. His aloofness made Leroy feel embarrassed by his display of emotion and he forced himself to stop. “Um,” he croaked out, “Did you want to say goodbye?”

“Already did.” He checked his watch. “Service starts in an hour. I want another cup of coffee first.”

Leroy suddenly felt very old and very alone in his grief. “Let’s go,” he said dejectedly.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

The service was underway and it was turning out to be as short as Jackson Gibbs had wanted it. The entire team had ridden up in a mini – van rental that Tony had forced McGee to drive because it wasn't sexy enough for him to be seen behind its wheel. They were sitting in the middle of the room with the exception of Ducky, who boldly sat himself in the front row on Gibbs' right. Barry Gidseg had been correct; the service was very well attended. Gibbs, Ducky and Leroy sat stiffly in the uncomfortable wooden folding chairs in the front row while the funeral director began to read the obituary Gibbs had worked on in the Gazette's office.

"Jackson Ralph Gibbs, the only child of Jennifer and Ralph Gibbs, was born June 22, 1928 and died February 13, 2014. He was a lifelong resident of Stillwater. He graduated from Stillwater High School and married his childhood sweetheart, Ann.”

Jackson enlisted in the Air Force and served honorably during World War II, receiving a Purple Heart and a Medal of Valor for his service. After the war, he and Ann had a son, Leroy Jethro, named after his best friend, Leroy Jethro Moore, who he also named as his son's godfather.

"When he and his best friend Leroy returned from the war, they worked in the coal mines until they had saved enough money to open the General Store on Main Street, where he worked until the day he died. He loved that store and felt he was providing a great service to the community."

"He joins his wife in death and leaves behind his son, Leroy Jethro, his best friend, Leroy 'LJ' Jethro Moore, his special friends Abby Sciuto, Donald Mallard, Tony DiNozzo, Tim McGee and the people of Stillwater whom he loved and respected. Thank you." Ansel folded the program and stood silently for a moment. The only sounds were of people sniffling and coughing. "Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our service. Burial will be taking place immediately in Laurel Hill Cemetery and there will be a small repast at the VFW hosted by Mrs. Hagerty and the Ladies' Auxiliary."

Jethro and Leroy stood and along with the funeral home staff, escorted the coffin to the hearse. They then took a few minutes to accept condolences from the attendees. Ducky shook both men's hands and noticed again how stiffly Jethro was holding himself and how he was cutting all human contact short. The team stepped up to the two men and shook hands, even Abby. She was still stung that Gibbs wouldn't let her hug him when he first broke the news, but she chalked it up to Gibbs' way of dealing with loss and forgave him. Leroy spoke first. "We really appreciate you guys coming all the way up here. Will you be going to the cemetery?"

Tony responded, "No, we really need to head back; we have to work tomorrow. Boss, don't worry about anything; we'll handle anything that comes up."

"Thanks, DiNozzo."

Ducky walked up to Gibbs again and stood on tiptoe which forced the much taller man to lean down. "Remember what I said, Jethro, about not shutting everyone out," he said softly before saying louder, "We better start heading back; come along, everyone."

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Gibbs and Leroy were back home sitting in the living room, ties loosened, drinks in hand. Leroy swirled his scotch around and said, "It was a nice service. I think Jack would have liked it." Gibbs grunted in response, but said nothing. After a few more minutes Leroy stated sadly, "When you leave Thursday, I'm not going to see you again, am I?"

Gibbs' eyes widened in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"That's kind of how you're making me feel." Leroy stood up and began to pace slowly. "Listen, Jethro, your father and I are products of our time. Admitting to having feelings just wasn't done; anger was the only emotion men expressed. And you're a lot like Jack what with keeping everything inside. It took forty years for Jack and me to get our friendship back and that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't found me. Thanks to you, I was able to spend the last six months of my best friend's life with him. That means everything to me." Gibbs finished his drink and continued to hold the empty glass in his hands. He wasn't quite sure what to say, so he went with his fallback position which was silence. "I feel a little weird doing this, but I know I'll regret it if I don't," Leroy continued. "Don't be like your father and me. We felt it was our duty to always be strong, never show any weakness, never admit when we were hurting and considering ourselves failures if we did. Ever since you came back and probably from the moment you heard about Jack, you've been shut down and shutting out everyone who cares about you. Me, included. Especially me, and I have to tell you that it hurts me that you feel like you can't or won't trust me enough to be real with me."

Gibbs stood up and moved to the other side of the room. "What would you have me do? What do you want from me?"

"I want to know that you care! That you care your father's dead; that you care about me!" he shouted.

Gibbs shouted right back, "Of course I care! He was my _father!_ And if I didn't care about you, why would I tell you to keep living here?"

"Who knows? Maybe it's convenient because you don't have to be here to sell it!" Leroy held up his hands and took a step back. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before he started to speak again in a normal tone. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you. I love you, Leroy Jethro, I always have. And now that my best friend is gone, you're all I have left and I'm afraid I'm losing you, too."

Leroy watched as Gibbs' shoulders slumped as he moved closer. "You know why I wouldn't let anyone hug me or even really touch me? It's because I knew, I _know_ , that if I allowed it, it would break me. I have to be strong in front of my team; they _need_ me to be strong."

Leroy put his hands on Gibbs' shoulders. "I understand that, I do, but they're not here. _I_ am and you can let go and let _me_ be strong for _you_."

Jethro reached out and pulled his namesake into a hug. He could feel his tears start to sting his eyes as he said, "I love you, Uncle Leroy, and you're not losing me. Not again." He began to cry and realized that he was crying not only for his own loss, but for his uncle's loss as well. He heard and felt that Leroy was also crying. They held onto each other and cried out their grief for what seemed an eternity. After awhile, both men quieted and Gibbs leaned back to see the older man shaking his head and smiling. "What, Uncle Leroy?"

"I was thinking how much you mean to me and that your name was going to be Leroy Jethro no matter _who_ your father was!"

Gibbs laughed and hugged his uncle again. Kissing the man's temple he replied, "I guess that's true."

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Later on that night, the two men were again sitting in the living room. They had eaten more of the ton of food the neighbor women had brought. Gibbs had sprawled on the couch and Leroy was sitting in the overstuffed easy chair. "Uncle Leroy, I've decided to stay until Saturday if that's okay with you. I figure I'll put an ad in the paper for the store and get a real estate agent. I'll give you power of attorney to handle things."

"Of course it's okay; I'll be glad for the company. Hey, I'm still going to have to freeze a lot of that food; it's too good to throw away," Leroy opined.

"I'll do it in the morning," Gibbs replied. "Listen, I have something else to tell you. When I went over to the cemetery the other day, I bought the plot next to my parents. For you."

Leroy sat forward. "You, you want me to be buried next to Jack and Ann?"

Gibbs shrugged, "You're family; the only Stillwater family I have left. You made arrangements for yourself already?"

"No, no. I figured, before you found me, that since I have no wife, no kids; let my body be the state's problem. What did I care?"

"Well, _I_ care and if you have no objection, I want you to be with them."

"Wow. Thanks, son." A wicked gleam came to his eye. "Who you gonna put me next to?"

Gibbs smiled, "I'll surprise you."


	4. Epilogue

Monday morning, Gibbs arrived at work and immediately went to Autopsy. “Hey, Duck,” he called as he came through the door, “Palmer here yet?”

“Yes, he just took something up to Abby’s lab.”

“Call up there and tell them both to come here,” Gibbs instructed as he reached for his cell and called Tony. “DiNozzo, when McGee and Bishop come in, all of you come to Autopsy.”

“Sure, Boss.”

When the entire team was assembled and standing before him, Gibbs said, “I want to thank you for being there for me when my father died and say I’m sorry for being a jerk and pushing you away.” He stepped in front of DiNozzo and pulled him into a brief hug. “Thanks for leading the team when I couldn’t.” McGee also got a brief hug. “Thanks for coming to the funeral.” He took Bishop’s hand in his and said, “I appreciated you coming; you really are part of the team.” When he stepped in front of Abby he said, “I know I hurt your feelings when I didn’t let you hug me. Sorry, Abbs. Can I get that hug now?”

“Oh, Gibbs!” she said as she flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

Palmer smiled shyly and stuck out his hand when Gibbs stepped in front of him. Gibbs shook his hand and said, “Thanks for being there.” He looked at Ducky and then said, “Back to work! Palmer, go with Abby.”

“Yes, Boss!” they said almost in unison as they headed out the door knowing that whatever he wanted to say to Ducky, he wanted to say in private.

When the door closed and the hallway was once again empty, he turned to Ducky and hugged him hard. Ducky patted his back and when he let the older man go he said, “I took your advice. I let my uncle in and…well, we reached an understanding. Thanks.”

“Oh, Jethro, good for you. I can understand you wanting to be strong in front of the others, but I want you to know: You can always come to me. I may be shorter, but you can lean on me.”

Gibbs smiled and left Ducky to go to work.

_The following Sunday afternoon…_

Leroy “LJ” Moore was sitting in the living room watching TV when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Uncle Leroy.”

“Hi, I was hoping you’d call!”

“Why wouldn’t I call? I call every Sunday at three.”

Leroy smiled, “Yes, yes, you do. How was your week?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Great! Let me tell you; first, Mrs. Lincoln came over…..”  


End file.
